


Prompt #34

by Ambros



Series: Tumblr Prompts [35]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, Worried Magnus, magnus has angel blood, so he can use the seraph blade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 18:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambros/pseuds/Ambros
Summary: Prompt: I need Magnus casually tidying up the non-magic way and wanting to put Alec's Seraph Blade and for it to light up and Alec be like "tf dude"





	Prompt #34

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for this prompt!  
> I'm really sorry that it's so late and a bit all over the place, but I hope it's enjoyable!  
> Please let me know :)

There is something quietly sad in the way Alec sometimes comes home and he’s exhausted, drained, can barely stand as he drags himself in the apartment, the door closing heavily behind him.

Magnus stands up quickly from where he’d been sitting at the kitchen table, his phone spinning on his finger, nervous magic wrapping around it as he waited for a text. It falls on the table and Magnus doesn’t pay attention to it, his magic reaching Alec before he does, wrapping around him, gentle tendrils of it reaching under his black jacket, ruffling his hair, comforting, searching for wounds, curling around him when it doesn’t find any.

“ ‘m alright,” Alec mumbles, even though he clearly isn’t, muscles trembling as he folds into Magnus’ arms, “We got her back.”

Like the two things are strictly correlated, like Alec wouldn’t have been alright if they hadn’t found Clary, and Magnus holds him a little tighter, wraps his arm around Alec’s waist and helps him walk to the bathroom.

It had taken them roughly forty hours to find Clary, who’d been kidnapped by some assholes Shadowhunters who wanted to keep her as a runes-making machine. Forty hours of food and rest replaced by runes, which are not the same thing at all, no matter how much Alec insists that he can’t feel any difference.

Magnus had been so worried everything in his apartment had begun shaking around hour twenty-eight and he’d had to call Raphael to ask him to  _please get me out of here_. It hadn’t been the greatest of ideas since, as it turned out, Raphael had been worried sick about Isabelle, so they’d just ended up glaring at their drinks in silence, Magnus’ magic making the lights in the bar flicker.He only feels marginally better now that Alec is in his arms.

He brushes Alec’s hair off his forehead once they reach the bathroom, the stark contrast of the white tiles of the floor against Alec’s black boots hurting his eyes; he murmurs: “We’re just going to take a shower and then we’ll get you to bed,” because Alec’s eyes are closing as he stands, and he silently adds  _for at least a week_ as Alec nods, blinking slowly, a heavy smile curling his lips: “One day we’ll get to shower together without this,” he points at himself.

Magnus huffs, snaps his fingers and his shirt disappears, knows that there’s some sort of instinctive comfort in feeling Alec’s skin against his own, knows it’s the same for Alec, so he reaches for Alec’s shirt next, with his hands instead of simply using magic, and Alec rests his forehead against Magnus’ shoulder, sighs against his skin.

A small smile curls Magnus’ lips as he feels the muscles in his back melt.

It takes him a while to get Alec’s shirt off of him, Alec groaning in displeasure against his shoulder when he has to move; Magnus kisses the tip of his nose and Alec looks like a disgruntled kitten for half a second.

He works on his pants next, quickly, and it’s when he’s pushing them down that he remembers the thigh holster, grabs it before it can fall to the ground tangled with the pants, and thankfully,  _thankfully_ his magic reacts before his brain does, realises he’s grabbed it by the hilt, wraps itself around Alec’s thigh as the blade appears, glowing blood red, responding to Magnus’ tainted blood.

Magnus can feel Alec’s wide open eyes on his back.

There’s one more moment of silence before Alec’s slow, deep voice cautiously curls around the word: “Magnus.”, turning it into a question. There’s a  _what the hell_ in there that Alec is too tired to say.

Magnus clears his throat, unwraps his fingers from around the hilt, lets his magic flow from Alec’s thigh to the hilt and slowly lowers it to ground.

“Shower and then we’ll talk?” he asks, hopeful, and Alec searches his eyes for a second before nodding.

 

*

 

It’s more shower and then sleep and then they talk, but Magnus is not going to complain.

He sighs, fingers buried in Alec’s hair. “I told you who my father is.”

“You did,” Alec says, encouraging, patient, still, his breath light against Magnus’ skin.

“Well, he’s a fallen angel,” Magnus says, as flat as possible, “So, I guess that’s why the blade worked.”

Alec brushes Magnus’ skin with the tip of his index finger as he assimilates the information; he whispers: “Okay,” but there’s something more he’s holding back.

Magnus sighs, his fingers still in Alec’s hair; he whispers: “I’m not proud of it, Alec.”

Alec turns, his chin on Magnus’ skin. “If it’s a part of you,” he says, simply, “I’ll love it anyway.”

A smile curls Magnus’ lips, small, as he reaches down, his palm against Alec’s cheek.

Maybe Alec can show him how.


End file.
